


Redemption

by la_reine_rouge



Category: Beauty and the Beast (2017), La Belle et la Bête | Beauty and the Beast
Genre: Ariadne is abused, Blood, F/M, Gaston (Disney) Lives, Gaston is a beast, Gaston redemption arc a few people asked for, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Luke Evans' Gaston gets a happy ending, M/M, Major Original Character(s), Minor LeFou/Stanley (Disney: Beauty and the Beast), Original Character(s), Scars, Sexism, Violence, post-2017 movie, they don't come in till the end, warnings will be given before each chapter
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-25
Updated: 2018-11-08
Packaged: 2019-01-22 20:51:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 11,019
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12490568
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/la_reine_rouge/pseuds/la_reine_rouge
Summary: Turned into a beast of his own right by the very same Enchantress that cursed the prince, Gaston must find a way to stay alive in the wilds of the forest and find someone who can love him for who he is, not by what he looks like. Years pass, however, and hope at ever being human again seems to be just out of his reach. It doesn't seem possible for him to find anyone to truly want to be with him in ways not even Belle did... until he stumbles just far enough into her home.Ari has never found men to be very appealing, with the way her father raised her and how she will bear the scars from her childhood for life, but the tortured soul inside this strange monster calls out to her. Ariadne knows exactly what he feels, how he feels, and the battered woman is drawn to him in ways she cannot understand. She allows him into her home, her life, her mind easier than she ever thought possible. It doesn't matter that he has a snout and horns. It doesn't matter that he has cloven hooves. All she sees is the way he was hurt, and the way he needs to be healed.They've both been broken down. But maybe, just maybe, they can build themselves back up together.





	1. Prologue :: Cursed

**Author's Note:**

> This is Gaston's redemption arc following the 2017 live action movie version of Beauty and the Beast. This will be a full novel, and will obviously have various original characters. There will be mentions of other characters, such as Agathe (the Enchantress), LeFou, Belle, the original Beast/Prince, etc., but they will not show up in any of the chapters except maybe at the very end - minus Agathe, who also shows up in the very beginning. Additionally, there will be various triggering elements throughout this story such as blood, abuse, and non-consented sexual elements, and each triggering element will be mentioned in the notes above the specific chapter. Each new trigger will be added to the tags, so feel free to keep your eye on them in case they get longer. If there is a triggering element that you cannot handle but there are plot-points, you can scroll all the way to the bottom where you will get a synopsis of what happened without the events that resulted in your skipping the reading. 
> 
> This is just going to be a short little bit before we get into the fun stuff, so if you like this I'd recommend bookmarking it because it's only (hopefully) going to get better from here.
> 
> WARNING - There will be some mentions of blood/broken parts, but not a whole lot. He just fell from god-knows-how-high, the guy's gotta have _some_ issues.

All he knew was pain. It was stifling, smothering, piercing every orifice and swatch of what he thought was his body. He couldn't really tell anymore, didn't know anymore. Nothing felt quite right. Was he supposed to feel this way? He couldn't remember anything before this, before the blinding lances of sharp agony that threatened to rip his very being apart. Or was he already torn to shreds? He didn't know anymore. Maybe he was already dead. If death felt like this, though, he was going to have to have words with someone.

A brilliantly bright glow came from his peripheries, and Gaston managed to flick his eyes over towards it with great focus. His neck was broken, he was sure, unmoving and stiff and aching something _awful_. He choked on a mouthful of something, something that shouldn't have been in his mouth, and then he saw her face. The glow around her entire being almost enough to make him cry out, but he couldn't seem to muster the strength. Or make his vocal chords work that much.

"A...A...Aga...Ag..." He couldn't get his mouth to form the words, couldn't make his tongue work. It felt like he was trying to speak around a mouthful of cotton while more was shoved into his ears. His voice wasn't supposed to sound like that, right? Hoarse and choked, gasping every now and again? It was useless, trying to get her to understand what even he could not. Instead, Gaston tried to portray what he wanted from her with his eyes, what was left of them at least. It hurt to move them, to move his face. He didn't know if anything even showed in his expression other than suffering. Maybe that would be enough. Maybe she would see his agony and put him out of it. 

She stepped forward, or did she float? He couldn't tell. His eyes couldn't even redirect themselves down to her feet to see if she was resting on the ground or levitating above it. Agathe drew nearer, her long skirt blowing out around her narrow body in an imaginary wind, or could he just not feel it? He couldn't feel much of anything anymore. Carefully, the Enchantress crouched down beside his throbbing head and laid the back of her hand carefully on his brow. Instantly, a rush of warmth and peace flowed over his body, and Gaston sighed softly in bliss, his body shuddering at the unexpected relief. 

"Do you want to know what you were missing?"

Gaston looked into her golden face and squinted, unsure. What he was missing? What even did that mean? He had everything he could have possibly wanted... except Belle, of course. But that was done, his fate with her had been long-since sealed. He knew that much now. Even if, by some miracle, the beast had lived - no, his prince, he remembered now, his prince not the beast, he had shot his prince in the back - then there would be no future with her. Whether it be that she hated him for killing the creature, the man, that she loved, or be it that she was with him in every sense of the word. Gaston knew that Belle had no care for him. She wouldn't, not now if she hadn't had any interest in him before especially, and she hadn't he knew that now. Her father didn't either, nor did LeFou anymore (not that he blamed him, of course he didn't blame his dearest companion, his oldest friend and most loyal compatriot, not with the way he had treated him in the end). Hindsight was 20/20, and Gaston saw everything oh-so-clear now that he lay dying at the foot of this glorious castle. There was no way for the Enchantress to show him what he had been missing, because he knew what it was and he had already lost it.

Agathe was shaking her head with a small smile curling her thin lips. "No, you haven't the slightest idea. You cannot know what you were missing until you find it, and you are so very far." With a wave of her golden hand, she looked around them. "You do not need a castle or a beautiful girl. I can show you what you deserve, if you are willing."

Did he hear right? A second chance? He hadn't thought he deserved one of those at all, not after everything. He had called her a hag! A filthy one, at that. And yet, here she was, putting at least a temporary stop to his pain and offering him the chance of a lifetime. A do-over. Did he want a do-over? His mind was already made up before he even had a chance to weigh his options, and she knew it. Gaston looked to her, trying to figure out how to speak, but the glow was brighter than ever and all he could see were her gentle eyes. Slowly, he felt himself being lifted off the ground, shielded by twisting vines of gold and sparkle. It felt as if he was floating outside of his body, looking in as the pieces were put back together. His broken form was mended, bones melded back into one, limbs straightened to their proper angles, eyes refocused and facing forward and senses back up to par. Nothing felt different, it all seemed to be the same, and Gaston wondered what she was going to prove to him until the gold cleared. His feet were on the ground, but they weren't really his feet. The large man nearly fell right over when he scrambled backwards, and the cloven hooves followed in place of his booted human feet. He extended his arms, gaping at the coarse black fur covering them, thankful he still had fingers but shuddering at the sharp black claws that protruded from the tips. 

Gaston looked up to Agathe but she was gone, her golden glow nowhere in sight. There was, however, a puddle, and on unsteady goat-like legs he hobbled over. It took more effort than he ever expected to crouch down and peer into the murky water, but when he did he nearly fainted right over. With shaky hands, Gaston stroked his too-large palm over the curling ram's horns rising from his skull like a sprout. His whole body seemed covered in that same coarse fur that encased his arms, and his eyes were rounded and larger than before. The ears that stuck out on either side of his head were long and parallel to the ground. His long, bull-like snout was rounded at the end, and anyone who didn't look close enough would think he was just that - a large, ugly bull. One that could somehow walk on two furry legs.

A ticking sounded through his clothes, blessedly remaining even if they were shredded, and Gaston fumbled as he searched his pockets with giant paws until he finally drew out the pocket watch he had received as a post-war gift from LeFou. It didn't seem to be working the way it should, and after a few shakes and an attempt to change the time with the hands, Gaston finally realized what it was. A timer. A countdown. He didn't know what exactly it was counting down by, but he knew in time it would come to him. Until then, to find whatever it was that Agathe thought he deserved. The hard part would be finding it, though, considering that he didn't even know what she thought he needed. It was really a conundrum of its own right.

With a massive heave of effort, the large beast-man managed to force himself back upright. It would take him a while to get used to his weird new legs and his large hands and his sharp claws and especially his strange new face, but Gaston supposed time was the only thing he still really had. He officially could not return to the provincial town in which he had lived to this point, not like this - they would turn on him just like he had turned them against the prince. He had no spare clothes, no money, no home to call his own. All he had was the clothes, and fur, on his back and a stopwatch that would only stop when he was doomed to eternity. Maybe he wouldn't be able to go very far, but he hoped he would at least be able to find something like what the Enchantress was talking about. Maybe he would be able to find his happiness in a different way, with a different person. Maybe there was hope for him yet. Maybe, just maybe, he would be able to fill that void he had told LeFou about just recently. Had that little of time passed since then? It took him aback, how quickly he had lost his control and how speedily everyone had dropped him afterwards. They probably relished his death. He found he couldn't blame them.

Gaston turned his head towards the distance. The sun was rising overhead slowly, and he felt called to the east, towards the glow not unlike the being that had done this to him, towards what he hoped would be his second chance. One step, then two, and then he was moving slowly but steadily, putting distance between him and his past and reaching for his future. Wherever, whenever, or however that would be. He just had to last long enough to find it.


	2. Lost and Found

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay, folks - I've literally tried writing this three times now. The first time my computer crashed before saving, the second my computer stopped responding. Then came finals (god save my grades), which meant I had to focus on finishing that up instead of dicking around with AO3's problems. So here we are. I kind'f hate this computer right now, but you know.
> 
> BUT some history!  
> Ariadne ("Ari," as she's predominantly referred to) is an older teen-aged woman, probably 18-19 (so the equivalent of mid- to late-twenties at the time), living in the woods near a provincial French town. For location standards, I imagine her near Le Havre? Her father is a French farmer, her mother is an Irish firecracker - hence, the name of her horse. She lives alone. She does have a few siblings, but I've yet to determine if they'll make an appearance or not. We'll see.
> 
> I see no reason to put any warnings for this first chapter, but there are a few blood mentions - nothing major. If someone finds them to be too much, please comment below/send me a message and I will add a warning.

Dinner-plate hooves thudded powerfully over the short cropped grass. Dew sparkled on the blades, giving an ethereal appearance to an otherwise unimpressive landscape. Nothing was awake as the sun began to threaten about peeking over the large trees in the distance. The large black beast leapt easily over low-hanging foliage, ears pricked forward and eyes wide with exhilaration at the chance of running like the wild animal he was. Astride his back, a slim figure sat perched delicately over a broad, bare torso with her fingers tangled tightly through his long mane. Maybe it wasn't the ladylike thing to do, riding around on a beast like her stallion with no tack whatsoever, but Ari couldn't have cared less if she tried. She'd never been ladylike, despite her father's best efforts, and didn't see it ever happening either. Skirts were the extent of her femininity, unless one counted gardening for food, in which case that was another aspect. That did not discount the bow strapped to her back or the quiver on her hip. 

It was a beautiful day after three straight of rain and gloom. The storm had all but drowned several of her herbs and a few of her vegetables, and a quick ride through the open fields in the wee morning hours seemed apropos considering she'd been stuck inside nearly the whole time lest she get sick. After she got home, she was going to have to go through all of her crops and figure out what was still salvageable and what was not. Until then, however, Ari was content to ride her monstrosity of a horse until the sun was high overhead. It wouldn't hurt to hunt a little as well to supplement her terminated greens. There was so much she would have to do in such little time, as the weather was quickly turning cold and the light was fading faster than before. She inhaled deeply, the crisp air filling her nose, as the world around her slowly awoke. It was so blissfully peaceful that she almost shut her eyes and let Dubhslaine do the running on his own.

Almost.

Just as she was about to close her crystalline eyes, a large form off to the side caught her attention. Sitting upright, Ari pulled back and brought her stallion to a halt. She peered out towards the river, racing and full from all the rain. The form was still, unmoving, soaked with water like a drowned rat. It looked like the poor beast had barely managed to drag itself from the cold grip of the rushing water. Quickly, the lithe woman dropped down from her steed's back and rushed to the black creature sprawled along the bank. Behind her, Dubhslaine snorted and tossed his head as he side-stepped after her.

"Hush, you," she murmured softly as she continued her approach. "Wouldn't you want someone to help you in you were like this?" The horse snorted again but followed close behind nonetheless.

Upon closer inspection, she saw just how brutalized the creature actually was. She also discovered that she had no idea what it was. It looked like a bull, but it had human hands. Clawed hands, but still vaguely human and definitely not cloven. The feet, however, were very bovine, and the horns atop its head said ram. A truly interesting specimen. Not that any of that mattered to her, really; while she'd never seen anything like it, she also wasn't one to leave a wounded creature alone. Ari reached out to lay a gentle hand on the first spot of unscathed body she could find. Black, coarse fur tickled her palm as she gently stroked over what she assumed was its shoulder. The beast rumbled, deep in its throat, and Dubhslaine shifted anxiously before whinnying softly to her. Ari waved him off and touched the creature again.

"Come, then, let's look at you," she soothed as she gently tried to roll it over. It did, slowly, and the woman gaped at the slashes and wounds driving deep into flesh. Immediately, she knew that it had to be one of the nearby town's worst people, not that they were in shortage, and she knew she had to get it out of there before the hunters came back. "Come now, let's go, get you cleaned up. Come along."

As she tried to pull it to its hooves, she finally received some resistance. The beast groaned gutturally and tried to roll back away from her, but Ari wasn't one to take no for an answer. Not when it meant a life would suffer. She persisted, pushing and pulling until she finally annoyed it into rolling away again - and to its feet. However, she did not expect for it to rise up on its cloven hooves, towering at least seven feet tall. Her eyes widened as she took in the full mass of the beast, before it groaned again and started to sink back to the ground. Quickly, she drew her wits about her again and gathered him up, straining to keep upright as she helped him over to Dubhslaine. The stallion skittered around, but settled after Ari flashed him a stern look. Somehow she managed to push the black brute onto her steed's back, despite both of their protests. When she was satisfied, Ari started walking for home with her stallion pacing carefully behind her. His head tossed every now and again when his cargo moved, or grunted, but otherwise he remained calm.

It took them a long time for them to get back home, longer than she had really expected, but the woman didn't really mind all that much. Her biggest concern was whether or not her patient would last long enough for her to see to his wounds. Not for the first time, she was thankful that she lived deep in the woods - the last thing she needed was the townsfolk seeing her carry a big black monster into her home. It was a small place, of course, made of log and stone, but it suited her needs. Since she lived alone, she didn't need a lot of space. Of course, that also meant there wasn't a whole lot of extra room for a seven-foot-tall creature. Ari helped it stumble through her door and onto her bed in the back corner of her little hut. Even the bed was barely big enough for the beast, but it suited its purpose. 

Now that it was sprawled out on its back, Ari could see the full extent of the injuries across its torso. There was a very small portion of flesh that was not torn in some way or at least soaked in blood. She shook her head as she carefully tore the strips of what she could only assume were once clothes away from the body. Why it _had_ clothes was a question for a different time. A few of them were still useable, so she went to one of the buckets of rain water she had brought in earlier and placed the least-destroyed scraps inside to soak. Outside, she raided her herb garden for the necessary ingredients to make a poultice and handed Dubhslaine a carrot before rolling up her sleeves and getting to it. 

When she had lived with her parents on a little farm closer to town, she'd tended to many scratches from the wire fencing, and even from guns and traps, on both humans and livestock. It was almost second nature to whip up a salve that dragged out the dirt from open wounds. She set that to the side and dragged her bucket over to her bed, along with her little stool, and set to work swiping dirt and blood from the gashes. As she cleaned the broad body, Ari found that the wounds were not nearly as horrid as she had first thought; the caked on blood had lead her to believe that the entire torso was ripped apart, but instead it seemed to be several smaller wounds that crossed each other. She exhaled softly, unaware she'd been holding her breath, and cleaned the wounds carefully with the water before applying the salve. The beast shuddered softly in what she could only assume was relief under her gentle ministrations.

"There we go." Ari found herself speaking to the creature as though he could understand her, hushing him like she would a sheep who had gotten tangled in the razor wire whenever his body flinched under her fingers. "Nice and easy. That's not so bad, is it?" She continued to clean his whole body, taking care of all the wounds and lacerations she could reach without making him move too much. Once his front was done, Ari put her materials away for the time being. He could probably use a break before she went on to his back, and honestly so could she. She patted his clawed hand gently. "Rest now. I'll finish up on you later."

Ari turned away to stand but a large paw came over her hand. She startled and whirled back to look at the beast's face, but his eyes were still shut. Her face creased in a light frown but she turned away again, and then

"...ank you."

Blinking quickly, Ari looked to the door at the front of her hut as though someone had come to her home. She looked back down at her patient, and her brows furrowed. She leaned in close and stared hard at his face, but didn't see anything that looked suspicious. It wasn't until his eyes finally opened and stared back at her that she realized something was horribly wrong. This was a beast, a creature she had never seen before, and it had very humanoid eyes. So humanoid, in fact, that she did not recoil when its mouth suddenly opened and words came out. "Thank...you." There was a moment where she pursed her lips and paused before nodding slightly. "Would you... like some water?" At its nod, the young woman stood and walked across the room to the stack of bowls by the window. She chose one and crouched by a different pail to scoop fresh water. Back to the bed she went, helping up her ward and assisting in pouring the water down his throat. It wasn't until he laid back down that she allowed herself to react. And react she did, in a flurry of motions and squawks. "What? How? Why - what - who? I'm... what?" Her hands flailed through the air as she paced back and forth alongside the bed, occasionally pausing to look at him before whirling back and pacing more. The black creature laying on her bed was silent while she worked through her racing thoughts, almost patiently so. Once she plopped back down on the stool beside the bed, he spoke again. "It is... a rather long story, with a witch and a prince and a beautiful girl," he started, "but that's not important right now. For now... thank you. It has been some time since anyone has shown kindness towards me. Since even before the castle."

He blinked once, lost in memories, then realized a question he did not answer. "My name is Gaston. You are?"

For once, her manners got the better of her. Ari did a half-curtsey from her spot on the stool. "Call me Ari. Short for Ariadne, but no one has called me that in years - not unless they wanted to annoy me."

Gaston nodded. Now that he was feeling better - not great still, mind you; he felt like he'd been ripped apart by hounds, partly because he had a bit - he found the strength to look around the hovel he had been shacked up in. It was small, very small, with really only two rooms and he was in one of them. The furniture inside was even more pathetic than the size of the hut. A single tall table, three stools (two of which were currently by the bed and in use), a couple of water buckets, some roughly carved bowls and cups, and several herb plants littered around in little pots. It was obvious he was in the home of a pauper, someone who had next to nothing, and it was a new experience for someone who had had it all back in his little town. Gaston wondered if she lived alone in the dingy forest home, then figured she did. No man would allow a woman to live out in this ramshackle place.

Content with the idea that they would not be disturbed by some other inhabitant, Gaston allowed himself to look at his savior's face. She was watching him back, studying him study her, and he found it strangely appealing. There was curiosity burning in her pale blue gaze, eyes that were equal parts beautiful and unnerving. Her long dark hair was pulled back in a tight, thick braid that curled around over her shoulder and was littered with foliage as though she'd just traipsed through a bush or eight. A heart-shaped face with Cupid's bow lips and freckles spattered across cheekbones, an appealing combination, was marred by a large scar that nearly cut straight through her right eye. Other small cuts littered her cheeks and a strong jawline, sharp enough to cut glass. Ari blinked wordlessly back at him while he did his observing, waiting almost as patiently as he had earlier with her as well.

"So... Gaston? What brings you to our woods?"

The beast frowned slightly as he averted his eyes elsewhere. "Oh, nothing much. Just passing by on my way elsewhere. I should be headed out soon as well."

Gaston was quick to learn never to look away from his savior. A sharp _thwack_ came down on his head, hard enough he ducked sharply and muttered a word not spoken in polite company, especially when that company was female. He did, however, turn burning eyes back to her and find himself wishing he could scowl. "What the devil was that for!"

"If you think you're going anywhere anytime soon, you have a whole other thing coming." Ariadne's eyes blazed something fierce as she stared down at him with crossed arms. "You're staying right here, in that bed, until I tell you otherwise - or so help me, I'll send Dubhslaine after you, and you won't like that."

Being a monster had its perks - the lack of expressions his new face could actually make made it easier to hide his own. " _What_ \- or _who_ \- is Dubhslaine?"

The sharp snort from behind him answered his question, and Gaston jumped before twisting to see. A sharp pain went through his body at the motions, but he ignored it in favor of staring in awe at the brute that was huffing at him. A large head was shoved through an open window next to the bed. The horse stood tall enough he could ride it even in this form and was thickly built, with a regal Roman nose and eyes filled with hellfire. In that instant, he knew she meant her threat... and besides, he wasn't sure he could get far on his own anyways without passing out. With a petulant cross of his arms, Gaston relented. "Fine. But only until I am healed."

Ariadne snorted. "You think I want you taking over my bed for longer than necessary? Be realistic." She reached back into her rag bucket and wrung out the strips. "Now, turn over. It's time I look at your back."

Never before had he felt like acting a child, but suddenly Gaston wished his pride wouldn't get in the way - if only to spite her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope y'all enjoyed this chapter, and special thanks to the lovely beautiful people who have already left kudos and bookmarks! I really appreciate it, honestly. Didn't think this would get any hits, never mind kudos. At almost 50 hits and 2 kudos, and 2 bookmarks, my expectations have already been surpassed tenfold. I almost cried when I saw the stats. So thank you very, very much! <3


	3. Enigma

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 81 hits, 6 kudos, and 3 bookmarks is way more than I could have ever expected - so thanks a lot, babes! In honor of this, I have been working on two new chapters for you~ Hope you enjoy them both! 
> 
> Please note this is not beta'd - none of my work ever is until after it's completed - so if you happen to notice any spelling errors please feel free to point them out!

There was little in this world that could ever be as boring as being bed-ridden, but here it was. It was astounding. Gaston was actually somewhat impressed, admittedly. Ariadne was clearly not.

"Hold it still! Do I have to do everything?!"

"Please do. If only to save me from participating in this task." He leaned back on one leg, draping one paw over his face dramatically as he laid himself against the tree trunk beside him. "It seems I am still weak from my wounds. I fear I shall never heal if I do not go back to bed promptly." _And with any luck, never be bothered to help her again_

Ari's expression was probably something that could turn men to stone, so Gaston didn't look when she remained silent lest he become petrified. Though she wasn't especially large or imposing, the power in her eyes alone was enough to bring a man to his knees - and not in a pleasurable sort of manner. Gaston had learned that lesson the hard way when he tried to convince her to let him outside early just for some fresh air. He was lucky he was still alive after that.

"If you have enough energy to act like that, then you certainly have the ability to do this simple task. Get up and quit being a child."

" _But this is boring!_ " 

"You think I enjoy doing this on a regular basis?" She snapped a wet towel at his back then, ignoring the presence of his current injuries with the threat of making her own. "You've been contributing to the pile, now, with all these poultices and towels I've been using, so you might as well contribute some hard time cleaning it up. If you don't like it, you can go back out into those woods and die alone."

Gaston did not stop pouting, but he did stop complaining. Loudly, at least. He muttered under his breath as he carefully lifted one of the water-heavy towels above his head and laid it over the line laced between two trees. He still did not know how she was able to put her wash up here before he was around - he'd already asked several times but received no verbal response - and found himself wanting to know more and more about his unexpected savior. Ari was an enigma, a complex array of traits he didn't know women could even hold. Sure, Belle had been a bit more of a spitfire than the other towns girls he knew, and some of the nurses and widows he met during the war were proud and noble creatures, but this strange young woman who took none of his crap was something new altogether. There was a ferocity burning under her freckled flesh, and his curiosity grew by the day.

"I cannot believe you do this every day."

Ariadne actually laughed aloud at that, rolling her eyes and shaking her head at him as though he was an idiot. "It is not an every day thing, Gaston. Just as needed. When I was alone and not tending the wounds of a eight-foot-tall he-beast, I could get away with doing the wash once a week or so. I have enough skirts that I've put together that it just wasn't necessary." Her eyes flashed to him as she scrubbed one of his towels on the board in her tub. "Now, however, it seems to be every other day, considering that I didn't think to prepare for nursing a battered beast back to health. Shame on me, hm."

Gaston tried not to look at her for fear she would eat him. Her moods were really hard to distinguish, generally speaking, but at this point he figured his safest bet was that she was liable to eat him. "Well, I suppose I could see that. Considering." Considering that he wanted to keep his head where it was (currently on his shoulders, like a good head should be), there was little he could actually say by way of explanation. He supposed it made sense, in hindsight, that she would only do the laundry every so often when she lived along since she had no one to tend to but herself. It was such a simple idea that the fact he had automatically assumed she did nothing else with her time was a disappointing one. Disappointing in himself, that is.

"Tell me, Gaston. What is it you think women do?"

There was no way he was about to answer a loaded question like that. Not when she was already brandishing items that could easily be used to bash his head in. Gaston cleared his throat and kept his back turned towards her. "I have no idea what it is that women do. Women do as they wish and are expected to do nothing else that they do not. Wish to, that is." That was probably a safe enough answer.

He turned around and all but leapt out of his skin. Ari was directly behind him, her face drawn tight and scowling daggers through his very being. Her arms were crossed in front of her chest and her hip jut out at a sharp angle. "You are shit at being political."

While he wasn't about to deny that, Gaston also felt the need to defend himself. "What kinds of questions are you asking of me? I am answering you with the best of my ability based on what you're asking."

At least his words gave her pause. Ari's expression lightened slightly as she considered what he had said. The slim woman apparently decided he had a valid point, for she said nothing while she reached around him to grab the wicker basket he had been using to hold the wet stuff before it was hung up. She carried it back to the tub and began removing the clean items from the water, wringing it out quickly, and then shaking them quickly before depositing in the basket. Gaston watched her smooth movements with interest. He had never watched the women of the town do their chores before. It had always seemed like something that just _happened_ , something that didn't need a lot of time or work to be completed. It had never occurred to him that it took a lot of energy to do what they did. Just doing the laundry seemed like a tedious endeavor; he couldn't imagine how they had time to do anything else.

Ari tipped her tub over and spilled the now dirty water across the grass. She straightened and brushed off her skirts before turning back to look at his work with her clenched fists on her hips. Gaston found himself straightening up like he was back in the army facing a higher-ranked official. Actually, the army might have been less frightening. At least he knew what to expect while he was there. With her, all bets were off. Eventually, however, General Ariadne just shrugged and tucked her bucket up under her arm. "Come along, then. Dubhslaine has got to be wondering where we are by now."

The open meadow in which she did their laundry wasn't far from the hut, just a little ways past some trees, but it was the only place that had direct sunlight regularly so as to dry them faster. Dubhslaine had a hard time negotiating his way between the trees so she often went without him. Gaston also struggled, but he wasn't lucky enough apparently to escape her wrath. He grabbed the washboard and started tailing her towards the little hole in the ground that had been home for the pair of them for several days now.

"I'm confused, and I hope you won't take this poorly."

One elegant brow cocked at that, and the woman turned around slowly to face him. "Oh? That sounds promising."

Gaston wondered how quickly he could backpedal without making an ass of himself. Not that he hadn't already. "Um, well, you see... I was wondering... how women... you know... do all that they do? In one day?" He was careful to keep his eyes averted from the slim woman, hoping she wasn't staring at him as hard as he felt she was. He was likely wrong, but he could hope.

"That's a rather interesting question for someone of your background." Her voice was not as mocking as he was expecting. Instead, it seemed almost gentle, curious. Gaston turned to look into those crystalline eyes and felt something stir from deep within him, something that not even Belle had moved. As the sunlight dappled her long copper hair, unbraided and blowing free, Ari watched him with a small smile playing across her Cupid's bow mouth. He could count on one paw how many times she had looked at him with something less than scorn or annoyance. This filled out his claws. "Is there any particular reason you decided to ask this question of me?"

Gaston shrugged as he scratched the back of his shaggy head. "I was just wondering. I never really thought about it before, but after seeing how long it takes to do that little bit of laundry... my curiosity was piqued. Do you ever struggle to complete everything you wanted to do in one day?"

Ari watched him for a few more moments before turning back around and continuing on her way back home. "I cannot speak for every woman, but I have not struggled to complete all my tasks as long as I've lived on my own. Since I only care for one, and Dubhslaine, the laundry is done less often and the meals are much smaller - thus not taking nearly as long. When I lived with my father, I had my siblings to help, and my mother for a spell. Though there were more to provide for, it wasn't nearly as difficult to do everything for the family."

Her third sentence made his ears perk. It was the first time she had spoken of her family since she found him half-dead, and though they hadn't been together long she had also not received any visitors. But the way she spoke made it seem like they were still alive, not dead as he had figured. She did not, however, further her conversation on them. She was quiet as she walked ahead of him. Gaston frowned but did not push until they were back at the hut. There was almost this... barrier, if you would, between him and her that was more than just the space that spanned from him to her.

She was stroking Dubhslaine's nose when his silence finally broke. "About your family..."

Ariadne did not turn around. She didn't twitch, didn't flinch. Didn't so much as acknowledge he even spoke, save for her response. "What about them?"

Gaston wondered if he was treading through dangerous waters. She wasn't giving him any signals. She wasn't giving him anything to go on at all, actually. "Well, um, you know, that's... do you want to, um, talk about them? You haven't mentioned them yet at all, really, so I was wondering if -"

"They're alive. I haven't lived with them in six years. I have three siblings, all brothers. My mother is dead, has been for ten years. My father is a farmer back in town. I haven't mentioned them because I no longer live with them, not for any particular reason. Everything that happened between us was years ago and it no longer affects me."

Of course, that immediately spiked his curiosity even higher when she mentioned things having happened, but he wasn't about to ask. She may have said that it didn't bother any more, but there was a particularly dark aura floating through the air. Gaston may be a bullheaded fool, a womanizer, a pushy faux-romantic, but he was absolutely not a suicide-driven man. Plus, the way her stallion was staring at him over her shoulder made his fur stand on end. He had never before feared a horse would kill him, but this one just might. He turned away so he would stop staring into the eyes of death. "I see."

There was a rustle of skirts. "Are you going to stand there all day with your eyes averted, or are you going to come back inside?" 

Gaston all but jumped out of his skin at her voice. The dark aura seemed to be gone, replaced now with an almost mocking playfulness. He had only heard that tone once before, when she had caught him fumbling to manage picking up and holding things with his new paws. It was a personable tone, one that made it seem like they had known each other for far longer than a few days. He couldn't help the way his muzzle contorted into what would have been a smile on a human face. Ari luckily wasn't the sort who questioned what he was doing or screamed that he was about to eat her; Gaston could only imagine that he looked like he was about to bare his fangs, and yet the delicate female never panicked. He had the size, the strength, the everything to rip her apart, and yet she showed no fear of him.

She truly was an enigma, and every day he spent with her was another day he found himself more inclined to understand her.


	4. Demarais

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A double update??? Yes, I have no life. Enjoy it while it lasts - classes start back up on the 8th (well, 9th for me, since I have no Monday classes)!
> 
> WARNING: Some implied non-con (like, 3 sentences worth - nothing major or specific, but just in case).

Despite the warm air, the water was cold - frigid, even - as it splashed over him. Gaston hissed out a low oath through gritted teeth. Behind him, she just scoffed and ignored his muttered protests as she rubbed her hands through the fur covering his back. Though she scrubbed hard, Ari managed to avoid the worst of his injuries while still removing the majority of the dirt out of his coarse coat. 

It was going on three and a half weeks since she'd rescued him from his watery home. Every morning, she would wake him up by messing around with the poultices and wraps all along his body; every night, she would repeat the process and usually wind up smacking him with a wet towel if she felt like he was doing something she didn't approve of. It was the routine, one he was used to now. One he somehow knew he would likely miss when it came time for him to leave. More than he probably should, admittedly. There was nothing he hated to enjoy more than her delicate hands flitting across him to fix up all his bandages. Gaston still wondered every day why she was so accepting of his appearance, to the point where she now slept half on the bed in which he lay. All the others he had come across in the months - or maybe years, he really wasn't sure how much time had passed - since his transformation had been less than welcoming to him. He could kill her in her sleep as easily as breathing, even by accidental crushing. Yet here she still was, acting like his brute size wasn't a factor for concern.

If he didn't know better (or figure she would kill him promptly on the spot simply for thinking it, as her being psychic was no longer something that would surprise him), he would automatically assume she was crazy. As it was, she lived similar to Agathe - the Enchantress, before anyone knew she was the Enchantress - alone and still kicking. That alone confused him. Why would she choose to live in the middle of the woods like some witch, unless she was crazy? But Gaston valued his life too much to dwell on (ahem) _crazy_ ideas like that.

She brushed her hands over a still particularly tender spot and his whole body tightened up in an automatic response. Immediately, her hands withdrew. Ari came over his shoulder, her long braid brushing against his bicep. She always braided her hair when she worked - which was a shame, since he liked it better when it was down. "Are you alright? Did I hurt you?"

Gaston quickly waved her off. Yes, it was sore, but the last thing he needed was for her to feel bad about it. She was the first to show him kindness since the change - he would rather eat his own cloven foot than tell her if she did anything that was painful. Unless she was actually trying to hurt him, which she seemed more inclined to do the more he healed up, at which times he was more than happy to say she was a she-witch. Plus, he felt as though he would die if she stopped; it had been so long since he'd been actually clean that it made him cringe. As a human it wasn't nearly as weird to not bathe, but when he was covered in fur every square inch of dirt stuck to him and weighed him down. "No, no, you're fine."

The look she gave him was no doubt skeptic, but he didn't acknowledge it so she pulled back and continued her bathing of him. He did note, however, that her hands were more drifting than they previously were and he sighed. It was hard to sit still as a rock while she finished, but he managed to remain until she finished and patted his shoulder. Gaston stood and stretched before shaking off not unlike a dog. He turned to face his companion and promptly smacked one clawed hand over his muzzle in an effort to hold back what might have come out as a laugh or maybe a strange growl. Ari's scowl was priceless as she held her arms out akimbo, soaked from the spray of him shaking around.

"I'm - I'm, sorry," he managed to get out without breaking down, but the darkness of her expression told him she knew just how hard he was trying to not laugh. "Here, let me -"

Her hand was in his face before he could even finish. "Don't. Don't even think about it." Her fingers dropped down to the hem of her light shirt and she lifted, pulling it clear off over her head with a little struggle as the heavy fabric threatened to stick to her body. Gaston stared for a moment before whipping around, embarrassed. Then, he was embarrassed to be embarrassed. 

"Is something wrong?" Ariadne's voice was soft as she approached, holding her shirt in one hand. Luckily, her skirts and underskirts hadn't gotten too wet, it was just predominantly on her over shirt, so she didn't strip completely. Gaston didn't know what he would do if she stripped. Clearly, she already had no opinions about showing him her undershirt. Maybe she didn't think of him as a human, but that seemed like a strange assumption to make considering he could do most everything a human could... or, rather, a humanoid creature. Maybe she was showing off what he hadn't known her to have. At first glance he had thought her frail and delicate, but seeing her exposed torso showed a different story. Several different ones, actually. Most predominantly, the muscles on her arms and through her back. She was strong, not nearly as strong as he but definitely more so than the women from his old town. The more important story was the one about the scars littering the expanse of her. They varied in size and length and shape, but they were all old and must have been painful when they weren't. Gaston tried not to stare, but he knew he was failing. She was ignoring him entirely as she crouched down by the small stream near her hut and wrung her shirt out. 

With a massive amount of effort, he tore his eyes away. No longer was he embarrassed to be seeing her in this manner, now he was curious about what happened in her past. He kept his focus away from her frame while she tried to dry her shirt out by waving it through the air; when that didn't work, she seemed to just resign herself to not wearing a shirt back. They were not far anyways, so she held her skirts up with one hand and her shirt with the other and started back towards home. Gaston followed her at a sedate pace, keeping an eye on her to make sure she didn't fall. Her beast of a stallion was still stationed back at the hut, and he whinnied as he saw her approach. Gaston ignored the fact that Dubhslaine flattened his ears when he came into view. 

By the time he made it to the hut, Ari had already changed and was coming back out with a basket. She tended to her garden at around the same time every day, so it was his habit to join her by sitting out and watching her. He tried to help once, but he accidentally plucked something that she deemed "not ready" and was promptly smacked for it with her hand shovel. Since then, Gaston had not been allowed to touch the plants unless she was dying. She wasn't, yet, and so he was forbidden. Instead, he perched on a tree stump not far from the garden and observed. She would usually talk nonstop while she gardened, mostly to herself about the various plants and what was ready versus what was not quite there, but sometimes he would be included in her conversations if she was feeling particularly like she wanted an answer. 

"Basil, basil, basil, where is the -"

Gaston pointed with one claw. "Isn't it over there?"

Ariadne paused and turned her head, brows furrowed until she spotted where he was pointing. Her answering smile was shockingly bright. "Well, I'll be." She moved back to pluck a couple of the leaves and placed them in her basket. "Good job. I'm actually impressed." 

Gaston tried not to let his head get too big while he preened. There was no doubt she would cut him back down to size shortly, faster if he acted too big for his britches. She already had knocked him on his hind several times with her razor sharp tongue. Just when he thought she couldn't impress him more, she came out with yet another blistering comment and he would be torn between tears and laughter. He leaned his heavy head on one clawed paw and watched her with an affectionate shake of his head. "I have a good teacher."

Again, she paused, this time to look at him from the tops of her eyes. A small smirk played across her lips for a moment before she turned back to her work. "Shut up." She wasn't blushing - yet - but it was more than obvious she was pleased by his compliment. Gaston grinned at her back.

He was about to respond, hopefully with something sharp like she always did (though with his track record, it was doubtful), but just then Dubhslaine let out an alert. It was unlike his usual noises, a soft whuff or an irritated snort or even just a stomp of a dinner-plate hoof. This was a cry, a sharp whinny that pierced his ears. Gaston looked up immediately, rising to his hooves and ready to start something if need be, but Ariadne was moving faster. She didn't bother to brush her skirts off before she started shuffling him towards the hut. Despite the fact that he had a foot-and-a-half and probably a good one hundred pounds or more on her, there she was pushing him along as though he was a pocket pet. He tried to protest but it fell on deaf ears. Ari did not stop until he was all the way back in that second room off the back of the hut, then slammed the door on him. The scraping told him that she moved something in front of the door to block him in, and so he resigned himself to his fate and sat down heavily on the cot stashed in the corner. Then, he listened.

"Ariadne!" There was a loud voice, masculine. Her response was much softer, something he couldn't hear, if she even responded to begin with, of course. The man was talking again then, "you haven't been to town lately, so I had to come to you." 

"I do not need to be checked up on, Demarais." Now he could hear her, her voice sharp and cutting. Gaston couldn't help but picture her with her head high and eyes narrowed like razors, and he grinned. So he wasn't the only man she liked to eviscerate with words. Refreshing. "I am a grown woman, and I have lived on my own for several years now."

There was a loud laugh, condescendingly so. "A woman, take care of herself? You must be going crazy alone in these woods, Ariadne." A pause, and then, "you should give up this farce and just marry me already. It's not like you're accomplishing anything out here. Who knows how many good childbearing years you have left? I will definitely be needing a few sons, and the less years you have the closer together they're going to have to be." 

This "Demarais" guy was a piece of work. Gaston tried hard to not draw any connections with him. At least he saw the strength in her living alone, the creativity to harvest her own crops and to fetch her own fresh water, the determination in everything she did so that she had everything she needed to succeed. Demarais seemed to ignore all of that in favor of claiming she should just be with him. It was sickening. Gaston had to wonder if he had sounded like that when he was pursuing Belle... and knew, in his heart, that he had been just like him. He had been just like this pompous blowhard when he was pursuing Belle, and hadn't stopped to consider her stance on the matter. If only he knew then what he knew now.

Ari's words were blades. "I have no intention of having children ever, especially not with you." Gaston felt the sting from where he was, and he fought back the urge to give a cheer while a shiver ran down his spine.

There was silence, then a sudden gasp and a swish of skirts, followed shortly by a choked off word. Was that Ari? Was she choking? Gaston strained to hear more, but couldn't confirm anything even when he moved towards the door of the room. Only that Duhbslaine was upset, if his loud shrieks were anything to go by. If only there was a window so he could see what was going on... But the voices were back, so he stopped shuffling around and listened.

"Look here, little girl. I have been waiting for years now for this hunt to come to fruition solely because I figure you would try to kill yourself if I forced the matter, but my patience is wearing thin. I will give you another few months to accept my proposal, or so help me I will force you to marry me - even if I have to chain you to a wall to keep you from escaping. You _will_ be my wife." There was another pause and a loud gasp as though she was choking on air. There was no more doubt in Gaston's head that his hand was on her throat. Gaston wanted to rip it off his body and shove it up his hind. "You can try to run, but you will never hide from me."

Following his words were the sounds of laughter from his disgusting cretin buddies and then thudding of hooves in dirt, so Gaston assumed they had ridden back out. He didn't care about them, though. He was far more worried about the gasping noises he could still just barely hear. It was a while before he heard the swishing of skirts, likely as she gathered herself up, and even longer before he finally could hear her moving whatever it was that was in front of the door. The second it stopped moving, he burst through the door and grabbed the first thing he could. Which, incidentally, was exactly what he hoped it would be.

"What happened? What did he do? Did he hurt you?" Gaston was tipping her all around, trying to examine her neck as best he could, but he didn't see any marks. Wait - no - yes, there was a slight discoloration - right? He couldn't tell from the inconsistent lighting from the windows, so he quickly bustled her outside to examine. Ari seemed to be fine with letting him drag her all about, and it took longer than he would have liked to admit to realize it was because there was a dullness in her eyes. The fire that burned so bright was fading fast. Gaston frowned crossly at her and shook her. Gently, of course, or as gently as he could.

"You need to tell me everything about this 'Demarais' fellow, now. I will not take no for an answer this time."


	5. A Taste

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so very sorry about the delay in this - I started this back in February, and then life really took me for a fucking trip. Please forgive the massive delays! I'm still not totally confident in this, but I wanted to just get it up and see what people think. Feedback is much appreciated on this one especially!
> 
> What I decided to do here, instead of churn out the whole backstory for poor Ariadne - of which I still haven't even hashed out all the details - I'm just going to give little bits and pieces, and as she comes to trust Gaston more and more, we'll get more insight. I thought about just spilling all the beans here, but then realized that would be boring af and no one would want to read some interesting things, and then a lot of depressing things, and then maybe some more interesting things. SO. Brief little tidbit of her past, and then we'll work from there. As a result, though, we have warnings! You will not miss any plot points if you do not read - other than some backstory stuff, it's all fluff. Fluff and angst. 
> 
> WARNING: Mentions of potentially triggering abuse, mentions of a panic/anxiety attack, mentions of "selling" a person. For a brief synopsis of the bad stuff, please see bottom notes.

Gaston was being increasingly patient with her while she paced back and forth across the width of her home, not that she had very far to go in either direction, and Ariadne wondered not for the first time if this beast was really as much an animal as it appeared. Sure, it could speak words and knew many things, but in a world where magic dusted across a wide variety of things she supposed it wasn't completely absurd either way. The question that really remained was whether or not he was a man-like animal or an animal-like man. Not that she figured she would get answers to her questions, not at this point at least, so she simply wrung her hands and remained silent. How much was she willing to tell this strange creature she did not truly know? She couldn't tell him everything, of course, because that would be foolish to unload onto a stranger, but she could tell him enough. Enough that he would stop asking.

The beast was still seated where he had been when she finally whipped around to face him. He did not move while she stared at him for a frighteningly long forty-three seconds before she finally sat down on the stool across from him. Ari crossed her hands, interlocked her fingers, and then uncrossed them. Still, Gaston remained waiting. Patience had never been a strong suit of his before he was changed. However, now he had been on his own for months with no one to talk to but the occasional squirrel or rabbit that he stumbled across that didn't immediately run away when he came near. His prior lacking skills in patience and compassion had been steadily increased with every day he woke up alone in the woods. If he had to wait all day, he would. He would wait for an answer. No matter how long it took her to dredge one up.

"You heard some of what he said, didn't you." It wasn't a question, so he didn't respond. He wasn't about to interrupt her flow. Ari sighed as she stood up again and paced to the window by his shoulder. "I'm sure you heard the part about him wanting me to marry him. My...father promised that to him back when I was a child. It was a payment for his debts. I was the payment." She closed her eyes against the sounds ricocheting through her ears. The ringing was back, louder than before, and she cringed away from it even though she knew she couldn't escape. 

She was distracted by a clawed hand curling around her forearm, gently tugging her away from the wall she was facing. Gaston had a look of concern on his face as she turned to face him, his heavy brow furrowed. Pulled away from her thoughts, the ringing faded into a distant hum. Ari sighed again as the tension rolled off of her shoulders. Here she was, living in the woods with only a monstrous sidekick and her horse for company, with skeletons living by the dozen in her closet. Her life couldn't get much weirder, but at the same time it was almost peaceful. Even with Demarais breathing down her neck, now that she had Gaston staying with her she felt inexplicably safe. Ari pulled back just enough to breathe a deep inhale without accidentally inhaling the fut that covered his body.

"I know it's not my place, but how old were you?" 

The words gave her pause, made her stiffen right back up, and immediately he felt like an ass. Which he was, originally, but he was trying really hard to not be that way anymore. Gaston opened his mouth to apologize, but she was already shaking her head. Her hands came up to grip his hairy arms tight. Her eyes were open but staring distantly over his shoulder. 

"Eight. I was eight." Again, the ringing sounded in her ears, twice in one day when she had previously gone months without it. Ari twisted her body away as though she could fend it off, but she knew it was fruitless. No matter what she did, she would never escape. She was branded, body and soul. Nothing would ever erase that. No matter how badly she wanted to. The ringing grew louder in volume, followed by another sound she would later realize was her whimpering. It was as though her head was being cleaved open, like she was being torn right in half. She would never escape, she could never escape, she would --

Fur and warmth was what grounded her. A deep inhale, a heavy exhale. Distantly she could hear a soft rumble, something akin to the way her old barn cat used to make noises to her kits. It was much deeper but with the same sort of sentiment, and steadily growing in volume. Ari shuddered as her body was unwound from itself, unfolding like a pretzel. Gaston gently lifted her up in his arms and carried her back over to her bed, which she hadn't been on since he arrived. He bundled her right up in blankets and quilts and tucked around her all the pillows he could find. Some of them he even pulled from the room in the back, the one that had been as of yet seemingly untouched. Ari nestled deep into her manmade cocoon with a small smile up at her friend.

"I'm sorry. That must have seemed rather...unseemly," came the murmur from the blankets, but Gaston was frowning at her. 

"You suffered a trauma when you were young, and as a result it has played a role in your current capacity," he stated almost analytically as he bustled about with her little tea set. Ari was surprised; she didn't think he'd paid attention when she had brewed him a concoction for him after he awoke with a bad dream, but he had thus far been managing well on his own. "I may not look like the well-educated man, but I was in a war once. I saw many children and wives who had suffered great losses and had many struggles. Sure, my most common way of handling the problems of widows was... actually, we're not going to talk about that. The point is." He returned to the bedside with a pot of tea in one paw while the other helped her to sit up to drink it. "You are not the first to have troubles with your past, and you will not be the last. Do not apologize for what has been done to you."

Ari blinked at him owlishly as she took a hesitant sip and was pleasantly surprised to note he had actually made it properly. Already, she could feel calmer, though she doubted that was the tea so much as the words he spoke and the way his voice seemed to resonate in even the darkest corners of her home, like he and he alone could keep the darkness at bay. Gaston perched himself on the edge of the bed next to her, letting her relax before gently pressing one last time. He knew, still, that it wasn't his place but leaving it as it was seemed so...unfinished. He needed more information, so he could know who to punish when the time came.

"You've never really mentioned your father. Is he... I obviously know he's not a great person, considering that he bartered a child for his debts, but was that all? Was he otherwise a suitable homemaker?" The shiver that ran through her body in response told him a story he wasn't sure he wanted to know. Gaston grit his teeth with a strength that could have cracked them. 

"My father was not a pleasant man to be around," she finally answered. Her voice was softer than he had ever heard it. The fire in her, the strength he admired, it had faded in the face of the memories that were a man he did not know. "He was...unkind to my mother, and when she died he turned that unkindness onto me. My brothers were perfect, they always received his attentions in a good manner, but I was never quite so lucky." She stared down into the tea cup like it held all the answers to her troubles. "If I did not do exactly what he wanted exactly when he asked for it, well... you've seen my punishment."

The scars. The marks that littered the expanse of her back. Gaston figured his teeth must be stronger than titanium for not shattering despite the tightness with which he clenched his jaw. So he had been right. They were lashings, beatings from someone who deemed her every move a mistake. His fury knew no bounds. 

"When did you leave?"

"I was going on fourteen. Father had tried to wed me by the time I turned twelve, but the pastor refused to allow it until I was at least in my teens. And then, when I was thirteen, there was a problem with getting things organized or something, so Demarais said he didn't need an official wedding, just a paper with our signatures on it, so I broke my hand." She held up the limb in question, and Gaston could see the slight disjointment in her fingers. "I couldn't hold a quill for months, and by the time I had function back in my hand the pastor had managed to work out a way to get me here. Said he needed a young girl to tend his garden for a few years, but that he wasn't about to let a man live in his forest cottage. Something like that." She placed her hand back in her lap, the other still holding onto the cooling cup. "I think he might have been the only one who actually cared for me. I think my confessions made him want to help me."

Gaston was never a supremely religious man, but in that instant he was ready to find this priest and kiss his feet. He reached out and put one paw over the shaking hand in her lap. Ari startled and looked at him with wide eyes.

"Drink your tea. I've heard enough for today." He tried for a smile, still completley unsure how it looked with his snout, but when he received a small smile in return he didn't rightly care. All he wanted was for her to fall asleep so he could sneak out and handle her problem for her. However, like she could read his mind, Ari laced her fingers through his.

"You won't do anything foolish now that I've told you some things, will you? Your wounds are still healing and you definitely are not up to your full strength yet. I cannot in good conscience allow you to leave for any reason without supervision to ensure you do not bleed out in the middle of the woods somewhere." Her glacial eyes pierced right through his very center, and Gaston found himself being light on air. He forced a breath into his lungs as he stared right back at her.

"I promise. For now, I will stay put." _No matter how badly I wish to go._

Ari gave him a look as she finished off the cup of tea, grimacing faintly at how it had gone cold. "I'll redress your poultices after I take a brief nap." Gaston chose not to mention that the sun was already dipping low and that any nap at this hour was likely to turn into a full night's sleep and instead nodded. She yawned briefly as she shifted around into a lying down position. Ari finally felt safe as she closed her eyes, knowing she had a guardian watching over her. And if her fingers stayed tangled up with his, well, that was just her way of making sure he didn't run off to beat anyone up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Demarais has a "right" to Ari due to a debt paid in full by her father selling her. Father was unkind to his daughter in lieu of his wife's (outlet's) death (of an unrelated cause). Her brothers are dumb af.
> 
> Questions, comments, and kudos much appreciated!


End file.
